


Feel Special

by MikeWritesThings



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Body Worship, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Gender Dysphoria, Hand Jobs, Intimacy, M/M, Making Out, Trans Octane | Octavio Silva, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29056947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikeWritesThings/pseuds/MikeWritesThings
Summary: “Octavio,” Taejoon said firmly, no longer gentle. “I want to touch you.”Heat crawled through his veins, an electric feeling taking hold of him. Octavio dug his nails into Taejoon's shoulders and said,“Touch me, then.”(Or: Octavio's dysphoria has made a return, and Taejoon takes it upon himself to make his boyfriend feel good.)
Relationships: Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Octane | Octavio Silva
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	Feel Special

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh sorry if any of this feels clunky when writing abt breast nd nipple stuff its like @-@ does this sound weird or formal, am i using the right terminology, am i describing this the right way im imagining it, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
> 
> anyways title is from feel special by twice <3 and i use a mix of terminology for octane [clit/cock etc]
> 
> _You make me feel special  
>  No matter how the world brings me down  
> Even when hurtful words stab me  
> I smile again 'cause you’re there  
> That’s what you do  
> Again, I feel special  
> One moment I feel like I’m nothing at all  
> Like no one would notice if I were gone  
> But then when I hear you calling me  
> I feel loved, I feel so special_

Octavio felt like shit.

His head was filled with a particular white noise that he hated, a familiar drone that made all of his limbs feel like lead and his ears buzz.

It had started in his head but quickly spread to the rest of his body, making him feel weirdly distorted. Throughout the day he'd just felt _off,_ and it only got worse when he looked at his body; it was like viewing himself in a funhouse mirror. Disproportionate and _wrong._

So he was currently bundled up in about four layers of clothing, two shirts and a jacket and a hoodie. It meant that he couldn’t move too much, but for once in his life, Octavio just wanted to stay _still_. He didn’t want to go out or do anything, not when he felt like this, so wasting away in his four layers sounded like a good way to spend the evening.

Dysphoria was like an annoying rash he’d _thought_ he’d gotten rid of, but it kept coming back at the most unexpected times. Taking testosterone was supposed to be the equivalent of putting cream on the metaphorical itch, and it _worked_ , most of the time—but sometimes that itch would spread, and it was almost suffocating whenever it did so.

So right now he was just...staring up at the ceiling, trying to think of something that would alleviate the pressure against his skin. It felt like he was a piece of wood, and his dysphoria was the hydraulic press that would have the delight to see how much it took for him to...

“Hey,” his boyfriend’s voice rang clearly through his haze, and Octavio glanced towards the doorway to see Taejoon standing there, hands in his pockets—he’d just gotten back from getting them dinner. 

"What'd you get?" Octavio asked, because he'd said _'surprise me'_ when Taejoon texted him asking him what he wanted.

“Burger. Is that okay?"

“No pickles?”

“And with a side of onion rings,” Taejoon replied, now typing something on his phone one-handed. Octavio sat up, feeling his back pop as he did so. _Ugh._

Octavio was just wondering if eating would make him feel better or worse when the other man looked up at him, lips parting as if to say something—before he paused, now staring at him with his brow creased.

Octavio arched an eyebrow in response to his expression. “What?”

Taejoon pressed his lips into a thin line as he tucked his phone into his back pocket, a familiar expression to Octavio. After what seemed like a few moments of internal debate, he asked,

“Is everything okay?”

“Yup,” Octavio lied easily, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. He felt hot and stuffy, but the hoodie was going to stay on. Otherwise, he would have to deal with the way his body looked. "Couldn't be better."

Taejoon stopped him from pushing past him at the door, grabbing his wrist. 

“You look bulky,” he said, a tinge of humor in his voice, and Octavio grinned in return, hoping his light attitude would make his boyfriend back off.

“Was freezin’ my balls off earlier, so I put on a couple of jackets,” the lie came easily once again. “C’mon, cariño, I’m _starving_.”

Taejoon’s grip didn’t let up, his expression changing into one of disbelief. “Octavio, your face is red."

“So?” He shot back, voice teetering on defensive now, and Taejoon’s eyes narrowed at his change in tone. _Fuck_. His boyfriend was awfully perceptive to his changes in mood, which was both a blessing and a curse. It was nice knowing he cared enough to notice, but it was _also_ a pain in his ass. _Stupid caring Taejoon._

His boyfriend let go of his wrist then, only to instead place his hand on Octavio's hip, leaning against the doorframe to block his way out even further and to put himself at about eye-level with him. They were only a couple of inches apart in height, but sometimes that difference seemed a lot more to him. Especially in moments like these.

“What’s wrong?” Taejoon asked him again, and Octavio let out a huff of annoyance. So he just wasn’t gonna let the subject go, huh? _Ugh, fine._

“I just feel stupid,” Octavio said with a shrug of his shoulders, downplaying it, though he honestly didn’t think this movement could be seen through all his layers. “Weird gender shit. Who _cares_? I want food.”

It was his chest making him feel like crap at the moment. Most of the time it didn’t bother him that much; in fact, he had opted to not have surgery yet, because the recovery time was _atrociously_ long. He also liked having his chest touched during sex, and didn’t want to lose that feeling just yet—hell, he’d thought to himself before that he might just _never_ get top surgery. Too much waiting.

Octavio passed perfectly fine without it, having been on testosterone for about three years now—he felt content with the shape of his jaw and though he couldn’t really achieve more than some stubble on his chin, the fact that he could grow facial hair at _all_ made him feel good about himself. So yeah. Who the fuck cared if he happened to still have his tits? They didn’t bother him that much.

Except for when they _did_.

Every now and then, he was struck by this overwhelming feeling that he couldn’t shake off, and Octavio would be haunted by the thought that he, perhaps, wasn’t trying hard enough. That he would never truly be a _Man™_ until he got the surgery, and made his chest as flat as possible so that he didn’t have to slouch to hide the curvature of it anymore. 

He knew in the back of his mind that the notion was stupid, that he was a dude no matter what surgeries he did or _didn’t_ have, testosterone or _no_ testosterone. But his brain didn’t pay attention to any of that.

His brain just wanted to make him feel like shit.

Octavio glanced up to meet Taejoon’s eyes, wondering if his boyfriend could read it all on his face. See right through him as if viewing him with an x-ray, pick him apart. Octavio wasn't supposed to feel this way. He was a stunts-obsessed daredevil. Feeling self-conscious should be foreign to him.

But the feeling remained, and his perception of himself only got more and more distorted as the seconds dragged on. Taejoon’s hand was still resting on his hip, his eyes flickering over Octavio’s face, before he eventually responded with,

“ _I_ care.”

“Cool,” Octavio said, trying to ignore the weird fluttering feeling in his stomach that occurred during these words. He pointed at the take-out bag he could see over his boyfriend's shoulder. “And _I_ care about my onion rings.”

“Take off your hoodie,” Taejoon said, as if he hadn’t heard him, and Octavio scowled.

“ _Why_?”

“Because I want you to.”

“Very convincing. _Why_ do you want me to?”

Taejoon’s hand finally moved away from his hip as he straightened up, fingers trailing up Octavio’s side, though he couldn’t feel it due to his layers of clothes. Finally his boyfriend was tracing the pads of his fingers along his jaw, before tilting Octavio's head up and pressing his lips to his own.

It was a short kiss, simple and over before Octavio’s eyes could even start drifting shut. When Taejoon pulled away from him he found himself leaning forward slightly, chasing after more, unsatisfied.

“Because I want to kiss you,” Taejoon told him quietly, and Octavio knew that there was no way that was the _only_ reason but he _also_ wanted to kiss him now. Was he really that easy to sway?

Octavio let out a short exhale through his nose, arguing with himself in his head for a second. The want to be touched by his boyfriend won out. Taejoon had used _dirty tactics._

"Man, fuck you," Octavio said as he stepped back in order to pull his hoodie over his head, balling it up and tossing it into the corner. He then wrapped his arms around Taejoon’s neck, pulling him down for another kiss that was harder than the last one, just the way he liked.

Taejoon took the lead in their kiss, causing Octavio to take a few steps back as he leaned into him—until suddenly the back of his thighs were hitting the edge of the bed, and he found himself being pushed onto it. 

“You could’ve just told me you were horny,” Octavio teased, fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket as Taejoon took off his necklace, setting it aside. Deft fingers were suddenly handling the zipper of Octavio's jacket, tugging it down slowly to reveal his two t-shirts, and he felt an uncomfortable blocky feeling in his throat rise.

He didn’t say anything as he allowed the jacket to be pulled off of him, his shirts riding up to reveal a sliver of his stomach to the cool air of their bedroom. He didn’t say anything as Taejoon took off his own shirt, expression far too stoic for what was about to become a makeout session.

Octavio _did_ finally speak up when Taejoon placed his palm on his stomach, ghosting it across his skin and sliding his fingers beneath the hem of his shirt—he grabbed his boyfriend’s wrist and said, voice clear,

“Don’t.”

Taejoon was still for a moment, before obediently retracting his hand and instead bracing it on the bed beside Octavio’s face, leaning over him. Though his expression remained neutral, there was something in his eyes that made Octavio feel exposed. Like a wire.

“What’s bothering you?” He asked quietly, a trace of concern in his voice.

“You wouldn’t get it,” Octavio said, turning his face to the side as he suddenly found Taejoon’s bedside alarm to be very interesting.

“But you could try telling me.”

Octavio didn’t experience dysphoria too often nowadays, so he and Taejoon had never really discussed it before. They'd had a few conversations when they started hooking up, going over what they were and weren't comfortable with—and he’d been told that one, Taejoon was gay, and two, he’d never been with a trans man before, so this was new territory for him.

That first fact had made Octavio feel strangely happy. Look, he didn’t need cis people's validation in order to feel good about himself, but...having a cis gay boyfriend felt _reaffirming,_ in a way. _Gender euphoria,_ he’d heard it described as once. 

That euphoria followed him well into their relationship, all the way up until this point, where suddenly beneath Taejoon’s gaze he felt like crawling out of his own skin. He felt like he wasn’t...

That he couldn’t...

 _Fuck_ , he didn’t even know _what_ he was thinking. What he was or wasn’t. All he could do right now was compare himself to Taejoon, hovering above him while shirtless. Even with his decision to not get top surgery, he still found himself envying the built musculature of Taejoon’s chest, distinctly _masculine_ in a way Octavio didn’t think he could ever achieve because he was skinnier and his arms looked like noodles and...

“I just feel small,” Octavio finally said out loud, and that didn’t even scratch the _surface_ of what he felt right now but it was at the forefront of his mind. “And...I...”

( _“I’ve never been with a guy like you before,” Taejoon admitted, staring down into his drink as if wishing to disappear into it._

_Octavio arched an eyebrow at this. “As in, like, a guy with serious issues or a trans dude?”_

_“Both,” he replied dryly. “I was just letting you know that in case I ever made you feel...I don’t know. Uncomfortable?”_

_Octavio crossed his arms over the table they were seated at, fixing him with a look. “Do you still think of yourself as gay even when you’re with me?”_

_Taejoon blinked, like that was a dumb question. “Well, you’re a man, so.”_

_Octavio grinned. “You've just passed the test.”_ )

That conversation swam in his mind, but doubts were plaguing him, byproducts of his dysphoria, and he found himself asking,

“Are you attracted to me?”

 _Of course he is, dumbass,_ a tiny voice inside him screamed, and he bit his lip, but still waited impatiently for an answer.

“...I’m straddling you right now,” Taejoon pointed out. Octavio covered his face by raising his arms above his head, groaning.

“I _know_ ," he said through grit teeth, trying to shake off the feeling of _wrongness_ clinging to his skin. "Just...get _on_ with it, dude.”

Taejoon’s hand was pressed against his skin again, and his stomach fluttered at the contact, sensitive.

“Octavio.”

He responded with a hum, and felt Taejoon lean closer to him, hot breath fanning across the exposed bottom half of his face.

“Can I take off your shirt?”

He debated with himself for half a second. Yeah, he felt like shit, but there was no use being a fucking baby about it. He could handle having his shirt off for a little bit, even if his skin would crawl beneath his boyfriend’s scrutiny and...

“Fine,” he snapped out, begrudging, and let both of his shirts be pulled off of him without much struggle.

Goosebumps rose on his arms as his torso was bared to the cool air. He squirmed beneath Taejoon's gaze, still not making eye contact with him. While he normally liked having the other’s eyes on him, right now he couldn’t shake off the feeling that if Taejoon looked at him for too long, the illusion would break. The illusion that Taejoon was attracted to him, _every_ part of him, and he would realize that he didn't _want_ Octavio. Never had.

Octavio’s fingers twitched as he considered crossing his arms over his chest, but before he could make another move Taejoon was leaning down to kiss him, mouth pressed to his own while he shifted his position on top of Octavio’s thighs. Octavio's hands found themselves on Taejoon’s hips, gripping him tightly there and sliding his index fingers through his belt loops.

The kiss became heated quickly, Taejoon’s tongue pushing into his mouth and making Octavio forget that he was shirtless, that he had been feeling like utter crap all the way up until this moment. Kissing his boyfriend was always the quickest remedy for negative feelings, and now was no different.

Tilting his head to the side, he allowed himself to become lost in the heat that was Taejoon, head swimming with the pleasant haze he got whenever he had the other’s mouth on him. The weight on top of his pelvis wasn't helping matters.

They kissed like that for a good minute or so, Taejoon unrelenting and Octavio torn between wanting to break away and wanting to keep their lips locked—until Taejoon was mouthing at his jaw instead, allowing him to take merciful gasps of air. Neck craning to the side, Octavio’s skin seemed to buzz wherever Taejoon kissed him, lips slowly moving down the column of his throat, down, down, until—

“Ay,” Octavio said suddenly, hands jumping from Taejoon’s hips to his shoulders, a brief burst of panic taking hold. “You d-don’t—you don’t have to—”

“What?" 

Taejoon’s breath was fanning across his face again, and Octavio's eyes flickered up to meet dark brown before quickly averting his gaze, embarrassed but also embarrassed by the fact that he _felt_ embarrassed. Embarrassed-ception. 

"You don't have to."

“Octavio,” Taejoon said firmly, voice no longer as quiet and gentle as before. “I _want_ to touch you.”

He tried to ignore the strange feeling that overcame him when his boyfriend said those words, an electric tingle crawling through his veins, and not in a way that he necessarily hated. He met Taejoon’s eyes again, half-wanting to make another joke, another jab, but he failed to come up with anything. So he just dug his nails into the skin of Taejoon’s shoulders, and said,

“Touch me, then.”

_Get it over with._

Taejoon leaned down again slowly, as if trying not to startle him, before trailing his lips from Octavio’s lips down to his chest, Octavio jerking a little from the ticklish sensation. One of Taejoon’s hands was now gripping his side, his other hand helping him keep from collapsing on top of Octavio entirely as he kissed his chest.

It wasn't... _sexual_ , necessarily—despite the fact that he could feel Taejoon’s growing erection against his thigh and there was also the thrum of arousal inside him, his boyfriend was simply kissing him, and just happened to be kissing him on his chest. Gentle presses of his lips to the skin there, as if mapping him.

Octavio took a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling as Taejoon kept kissing every inch of his chest, trying to figure out if he liked the feeling or not with his current state of mind. He kind of did.

It didn’t last very long though; soon Taejoon was moving away from his chest, kissing down his abdomen instead, more light kisses that had Octavio's stomach fluttering again from sensitivity.

Taejoon kissed his hip when he reached it, the fingers of one hand slipping past the waistband of Octavio’s shorts to tug them down slightly, exposing even more skin. He kept kissing him, and Octavio rather liked looking down at him from this angle because his long eyelashes looked so pretty against the top of his cheeks.

Taejoon rose back up, close to Octavio's face once again, and Octavio took this opportunity to wrap his arms around his neck and pull him down for another kiss. This time it was _his_ turn to slip his tongue eagerly into his boyfriend’s mouth, and the noise Taejoon made in the back of his throat was his reward. 

Octavio soon managed to hook one leg around Taejoon’s waist, trying to force the other man into the position he wanted him in, wanting to grind up against him and feel _some_ form of friction against his crotch. He bit down on Taejoon’s lower lip as he did so, hoping he’d get the message: _c’mon, idiota, let's go..._

Taejoon’s hand was trailing up his side, and he thought for a moment that he was moving it up to cup Octavio’s face, until—

Letting out an involuntary little noise in the back of his throat, Octavio pulled away from their kiss, staring wide-eyed at his boyfriend. He was cupping one of his breasts, an action that was completely normal for him in this sort of situation, but for some reason Octavio felt taken aback.

It was perhaps linked to everything he’d been feeling just minutes ago, but he didn’t know if he should voice his discomfort or if he should let it continue to happen. Taejoon stared at him, as if waiting for him to say something in protest, but the words never came. Why the hell was he being so stupid right now? Taejoon touched him there all the time, in fact, Octavio often _demanded_ that he touch them there, so why was he...

“How do you feel when I do this?” Taejoon asked him, fingers curling lightly into his skin, and Octavio blinked slowly, not sure he understood the question.

“ _What_?”

Taejoon repeated himself, and Octavio felt his face flush for some reason.

“What is this, a therapy session?” He asked, about ready to shove Taejoon off of him—but he was honestly really in the mood for _something_ right now, dysphoria be damned, and Taejoon was right on top of him, so tantalizingly _close_ that he could almost taste him.

“Maybe it is," the other man said, traces of humor in his voice again, and Octavio squinted at him. "I’m not going to let up until you tell me.”

“I already _said_ it was weird gender shit.”

“Explain it to me.”

Octavio let his arms fall from where they had been wrapped around Taejoon with a groan. “Why do you _care_?”

“Believe it or not, Tavi-yah, people who date tend to care about each other,” Taejoon replied coolly, and _fuck_ , he used that silly nickname that Octavio liked a lot. He was pulling all the stops right now. "So I'll ask again. What's wrong?"

Octavio reached up to place his hand on top of Taejoon’s, the one on his chest, intending to move it away, but the answer was on the tip of his tongue right now. He half-wanted to actually respond to Taejoon and tell him why he felt like shit, or at least give him the short version, condensed so that he could understand even if he could never actually _get it_ _._

Meeting his eyes once again, Octavio hesitated, something uncharacteristic of him—before he finally bit the bullet and asked,

“Don’t you wish I had surgery?”

“No,” Taejoon’s response was instant, and Octavio’s eyes narrowed in doubt. He immediately backtracked. “I mean, I don’t care what you decide to do with yourself, Octavio. I’m still attracted to you.”

“But you’ve never been with a guy like me before,” Octavio said, voice almost a whine. “You said so yourself.”

Taejoon sighed, letting his forehead drop down to rest against Octavio’s shoulder. “I wish I had never told you that. I don’t want you to compare yourself to whatever boyfriends you imagine I’ve had.”

“I compare myself to _you_ ,” Octavio said, voice raised against his will, and Taejoon adjusted to make eye contact with him again—though it was short-lived, as Octavio immediately looked away. He hated admitting shit, hated getting emotional or telling people whenever he was uncomfortable. It just felt so _awkward_ , and telling his boyfriend was no different. “ _Whatever_. Can we kiss now?”

He could feel Taejoon’s eyes on him, and half-expected him to keep this conversation up or argue—but to his surprise his boyfriend just sighed before letting out a low ‘ _yeah_ ’. 

When Taejoon peppered kisses from his jaw to his chest he didn’t stiffen up or freak out, assuming that he would follow his earlier path down to his hips. This time, though, Taejoon stopped at his chest, both his hands gripping Octavio’s sides and legs straddling his thighs. His mouth moved against the same spot on one of his breasts, kissing like earlier, but somewhat different.

Octavio opened his mouth to complain about how _still_ he was being, which soon proved to be a mistake—Taejoon suddenly bit down lightly on his nipple, causing his back to arch and a surprised groan to rise into his throat, audible. 

Face and chest flushing from his own reaction, Octavio wanted to tell Taejoon off for doing that, but the words failed to make their appearance because it had felt _good_. Taejoon was clearly paying special attention to his chest now, something he did often, but today it felt _different_ , somehow. More deliberate and _slow_ rather than the frantic open-mouthed kisses pressed against his breasts, where his boyfriend was clearly more eager to get below his belt than stay above it.

One of the key factors in Octavio deciding not to get top surgery yet was because he liked the stimulation during sex, and Taejoon knew that. Knew just what to do with his mouth and hands, fingers curling into his flesh, thumbing one nipple while his mouth was preoccupied with the other one. Octavio groaned, trying to keep his back from arching even more as arousal thrummed throughout him, a warm feeling that started in his gut and spread all the way down to his metaphorical toes.

At any other time Octavio would be impatient with this treatment, but it seemed that the universe had caught him off-guard for once as he squirmed, biting on his tongue to hold back the moan threatening to erupt from his throat.

Taejoon’s teeth grazed him again, and his breath hitched, the sensation pleasurable even though it had been brief. Octavio was starting to soak through his boxers now, could feel it where his thighs rubbed together, and wondered if he had soaked through his shorts as well. He folded his arms behind his head in order to prop himself up, trying to get a better look at Taejoon, a question on the tip of his tongue— a question that instantly became lost when his boyfriend paused to look back up at him.

They made direct eye contact, seemingly deliberate on Taejoon’s part; brown eyes heated and intense as he ran his tongue flat over Octavio’s nipple before biting him, not blinking once.

“Fuck,” Octavio groaned, sliding his hands out from beneath his head. He moved his right hand to where Taejoon’s was situated on his other breast and his boyfriend understood his unspoken request, squeezing him in the way he liked, fingers curling again. His whole body felt hot, especially concentrated where Taejoon’s mouth was, and the heat moved when Taejoon switched sides, tongue trailing across his skin and leaving behind a path of fire.

The sensation of it all was almost enough to drive his earlier dysphoria out of his mind. Not quite all the way—there was still an annoying, niggling feeling in the back of his mind, but arousal was taking over and he didn’t have _time_ to feel like crap. He just wanted Taejoon to touch him some more.

Threading his fingers through his boyfriend’s pitch-black hair, he scratched his fingers along his scalp and was rewarded with another graze of teeth that had Octavio whining in the back of his throat, his free hand reaching down between his legs, ready to pull his boxers off.

The noises Taejoon made while kissing him there was equal parts embarrassing and arousing; embarrassing for many reasons that Octavio couldn’t put into words, just knew that it had something to do with how he’d felt earlier, but it was also really fucking hot, wet and intense. His boyfriend was skilled with his mouth, and the way Taejoon was playing with his breasts—kissing one and massaging the other with his free hand—was making stars appear behind his closed eyelids.

He was almost didn't want it to stop, but he had _other_ things on his mind right now, and as he tugged lightly on the other man’s hair to go lower he seemed to understand him, even without words.

Octavio helped Taejoon pull his own underwear off, already tugging on his waistband as his boyfriend’s fingers curled beneath it, agonizingly slow. Taejoon straightened up to toss his boxers elsewhere, and Octavio could now see his boyfriend's cock straining hard against the front of his jeans. Taejoon undid his belt, Octavio’s eyes following every movement of his long fingers before reaching down himself to unbutton his pants for him, tugging his zipper down with the intent to help him out of his pants.

“Thanks,” his boyfriend said, voice thick—how he usually sounded whenever they made out and he wanted _more_. However, before Octavio could get very far with Taejoon’s pants, his boyfriend was suddenly adjusting his position, spreading Octavio’s legs with his hands so that he was between them rather than straddling them.

“Take your jeans off,” Octavio tried demanding, but it didn’t come out as strongly as he wanted it to, voice caught in his chest due to the way Taejoon was looking at him. Eyes full of _something_ , expression not as stoic as earlier. It was almost soft.

Suddenly Taejoon was leaning over Octavio again, dangerously close to kissing him.

“Have I ever told you that you’re gorgeous?” Taejoon asked quietly, lips so _tantalizingly_ close, and Octavio felt his face flush at the compliment. His cunt was aching between his thighs, soaking wet, and he only became more aware of his arousal as Taejoon moved to kiss his face. “I love your jaw.”

His boyfriend’s lips trailed down his throat, nipping the skin there lightly with his teeth as Octavio tried to fight back the itch in him demanding that he thrust up, seek friction against his boyfriend, move and do _something_ —and he ended up saying, voice strained, “Yeah?”

“I love your chest,” Taejoon continued, voice sounding rougher than before as he took one of Octavio’s nipples between his teeth again and tugged, causing him to groan because _fuck_ , that felt _good_.

Then hot breath was fanning across the skin of his stomach. “I love your abs.”

Normally that particular compliment was almost humorous to Octavio, but his breathing was getting shorter now, fingers curling into the bedsheet beneath him as he tried not to beg for Taejoon to get _on_ with it, halfway torn between wanting _more_ but also wanting for his boyfriend to finish whatever it was that he was trying to do, to _say_.

Taejoon’s head moved between Octavio’s spread legs, his thigh twitching as the other man's lips ghosted over his clit, groaning because he was so _fucking_ close, Taejoon was _right there_ —

“And I love your cock,” the way his boyfriend said this was nearly a growl before he took him into his mouth. Octavio gave a shout, jerking at the sudden feeling of Taejoon’s hot mouth on him because _fuck,_ he was going to lose his damn _mind_.

For someone who had supposedly never eaten pussy before their relationship, Taejoon was _godlike_ at it, knew just what to do to get his back arching. He would suck on Octavio’s clit, swirling his tongue in a way that had him seeing stars before moving his lips against his folds to instead press his tongue shallowly inside of him, which made Octavio ache for _more_ , Taejoon's fingers or his cock or _something_ inside him that would make him _scream_.

As his boyfriend sucked him off all he could focus on was the feeling of pleasure overtaking him, driving his earlier feelings out of his mind for now. The dysphoria felt like a distant echo as Taejoon worked his tongue into his pussy, Octavio's breathing coming out in pants now as he tried not to fall apart.

" _Fuck_ ," Octavio groaned out loud, gripping the back of Taejoon's head to keep him temporarily still in order to thrust into his mouth, rocking down on his tongue. The obscene wet noises of Taejoon eating him out were almost as arousing as the sensation itself, and Octavio found himself coming undone after a couple more minutes of it, unable to keep his grip on Taejoon's head with his limbs feeling like putty.

"I love sucking your cock," his boyfriend panted against him, looking up at him through lidded eyes with his cheeks flushed. He looked drunk, intoxicated, and it drove Octavio insane. "I love tasting you, Octavio."

Melting at these words, Octavio fought back a whine as Taejoon put his mouth on him again, feeling as though he was about to catch fire from the inside. His back arched as he ran his fingers over his chest, wanting more stimulation there after what Taejoon had done for him earlier, chasing after more, more, _more._

His boyfriend’s mouth was focusing entirely on his clit now, molten lava crawling through his veins as his orgasm inched closer. Octavio was soon moaning unabashedly, not caring that his voice was pitching into something higher, which he normally hated because _reasons_ but now all he could focus on was thrusting up into Taejoon’s mouth shallowly, rocking his hips as heat built up inside of him.

“ _Inside_ ,” Octavio gasped, words failing him as he tried to form a coherent sentence, but the older man got the message and slid his index finger into him, followed soon by his middle because Octavio was so fucking wet and so fucking _close_. It felt like every nerve of his was teetering on the edge of a cliff and he wanted, more than anything, to dive off of it. Chase the feeling of release that Taejoon's skilled tongue had promised him, his entire body trembling with pleasure.

His boyfriend kept sucking his clit while his fingers curled inside of him, Octavio rocking himself down on them now as he imagined his boyfriend's cock there instead, filling him up and fucking him until he couldn't remember feeling like shit in the first place. Until all he could think of was the man between his legs.

Taejoon suddenly took his mouth off of him, causing Octavio to whine, though his fingers remained inside of him. He grabbed Taejoon's hair, pulling him up harshly, and it was made all the easier by the man's quiet obedience. Their lips met forcefully once again, Octavio groaning into his mouth as his entire body tensed like a coil.

Taejoon kept fucking his fingers into him, crooking them as he did so that he was hitting _that spot_ inside of him that drove Octavio fucking insane. The heat in his belly was almost overwhelming at this point, and what finally drove him over the edge was Taejoon grabbing hold of his chest once again with his free hand, scratching his nail against him just the way he liked.

Octavio came with a cry into Taejoon’s mouth, nails digging into his scalp, but his boyfriend made no noises of pain or protest, just kept kissing him and thrusting his fingers into him. Eventually these movements slowed somewhat until Taejoon pulled them out and instead grabbed hold of Octavio’s thigh, rutting against it lightly.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Taejoon breathed against his lips as Octavio tried to catch his breath, entire body feeling electric. “You’re so fucking _hot_.”

Octavio’s recovery time was quick, his breathing slowing down as he let his head fall back onto his pillow, eyes threatening to drift shut. There was a warm feeling in his belly that hadn’t quite faded yet; in fact, it only intensified when he noticed the dark spot on the front of Taejoon’s boxers, jeans pulled down just enough to relieve him of their pressure.

“Off,” Octavio commanded, though his voice sounded far away in his own ears. Taejoon stood on his knees and pulled his pants and underwear down in order to free his cock, a thin trail of precum dripping from his head. He looked so close, and Octavio wanted to help him cum.

Taejoon touched himself right as Octavio wrapped his hand around his shaft, their fingers meeting and making that stupid fluttery feeling return inside him. Their eyes met, Taejoon's eyes lidded and tongue resting against his lower lip, that intoxicated expression again as Octavio pressed his thumb over his slit, the way he liked.

Taejoon moved his hand lower as Octavio began to jerk him off, slightly rough due to a lack of lube or anything like that, but the other man didn't seem to care, thrusting into his grip with low groans. His boyfriend's head was tilted back to expose the column of his throat, his skin flushed, and it only got darker as he touched his balls in a way that Octavio knew he liked but could never replicate, because he was ‘ _too rough_ ’.

Taejoon wasn’t complaining about roughness _now_ though as he kept pumping his cock, Octavio’s tongue poking between his teeth as he imagined how good he would taste, arousal making its return as he considered taking Taejoon's cock into his mouth.

Twisting his hand over Taejoon’s head, Octavio adjusted his body in order to place his mouth on him, kissing the tip of his cock messily, smearing precum across his lips—and Taejoon moaned at the sight, just like he knew he would—but what he _hadn’t_ expected was for his boyfriend to jerk in his grip, and then suddenly cum was spurting across his face, coating Octavio's mouth and chin. 

Taejoon gasped as Octavio jerked his cock through his orgasm, testing the limit of how far he could push him, because he knew that he tended to get oversensitive and Octavio liked driving him insane.

“ _Aish_ ,” the other man groaned, deep in his chest, though he seemed embarrassed, almost, as Octavio finally straightened up, “Mianhe, I should’ve—”

“It’s fine,” Octavio cut him off, swiping his tongue across his lips, and he didn’t miss the way Taejoon’s eyes followed that movement, cheeks still flushed. "Uh...thanks. For all that."

Silence fell over the both of them as they stared at one another, momentarily stuck in a strange sort of limbo where neither of them knew what to do from here. Octavio was still somewhat aroused, and in this state of not knowing what he was supposed to do he considered offering Taejoon a blowjob, before the other man was suddenly reaching up to take his chin into his hand.

Octavio stared at his boyfriend with wide eyes, caught somewhat off-guard by the serious look he was being given as Taejoon said,

“I don’t want you to ever think that I’m less attracted to you than I would be with other men.”

Oh man. Emotional stuff. He was really not good with emotional stuff, especially only five minutes after cumming, but he tried to be serious as he thought up a response with Taejoon's expectant eyes on him.

“...I know,” Octavio finally mumbled, cheeks darkening a little because this whole thing had started because of him feeling...dumb _._ “It’s just stupid gender shit.”

“I want you to be able to tell me about stupid gender shit,” Taejoon said, and Octavio’s lips turned up at the corners a little at that. “Hey, I'm being serious.”

Octavio wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, burying his face into his neck so that the other wouldn’t be able to see his steadily reddening cheeks. He just got so _embarrassed_ when talking about stuff like this, but Taejoon caring made him feel...better. It didn’t eradicate his dysphoria completely, but he appreciated the gesture. The thought behind Taejoon’s actions with him, clearly full of good (and also maybe horny) intentions. 

“I love you,” Octavio said, voice coming out a little stiff because he didn’t _like_ saying cheesy shit, but it was worth it when Taejoon turned his head to kiss him on his temple.

“I love you too.”

They stayed like that for a couple more moments, kneeling on the bed, before Taejoon pulled away from him and sighed, “Our food is probably cold by now.”

“Eh, we can just microwave it.” Octavio rolled off the bed and onto the floor, landing smoothly on his feet with a grin. “Yo, wanna take a shower together?”

Taejoon let out another sigh, and for a moment Octavio thought he was going to say _no_ —but then his boyfriend said, with something in his voice that made heat spark inside of him again,

“Sure. Let’s see how many times I can make you cum tonight.”

Octavio stared at the taller man, trying to think of something equally sexy to say back because _what the hell_. Taejoon’s brows furrowed and his smooth expression immediately fell.

“...Was that too much?” He asked.

“Nope, it was great,” Octavio said, eyeing Taejoon up and down. Imagining him inside him. Imagining his boyfriend's hands on him again, even the places he didn't currently feel one hundred percent good about. “Now hurry your ass up, cariño, I still want my onion rings."

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly do not even know what the hell body worship is i have never read a body worship fic. this is what i assume it to be NFKWFNKWNFKWNFKWKFN
> 
> this fic was c*mmissioned [censoring that word so ao3 doesn't nerf me] the prompt was octavio feeling dysphoric and then some body worship/sexy times follow :D
> 
> i love writing nsfw. its me going damn i have never experienced this before imma just guess that it feels like this and hope it sticks I HOPE U ENJOYED !!!!


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